Phantoms Poems - Poems about Phantoms

Phantoms And Photons So: I Asked A Ghost (Collectively) How Is It That You See? I Need A Clear Lens And Rods And Cones And Neurons And A Brain... I Even Need A Brain To Dream, To Speak With You! To Know Of "See." *** And Then: What You "See" Is What I Allow You To See: A Reflection Of Me, A Measure Of Light. What I Am IS The Light Of You And Of These Things. I Don't Need To See. I AM You Still Need To...

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As the smiles in the cloud brighten, a cloudburst of joy sends gentle kisses on our rooftops, pouring down clouded tears— bottled-up emotions to quench the thirsts of humans, plants, animals... and phantoms. The trees— with feet rooted deep in earth— stood humble as a worm. The birds~ ...

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In a velvet night where shadows dance upon the starry sky like lost phantoms on high, I ventured forth to touch a star, that cosmic beacon seeming to sing a waltz of light in dreams, Where thoughts entwine like threads unseen of hopes and wishes, building bridges to the infinite, With heart beating like a drum in the...

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Summer’s in the rearview mirror, re-experience it at your peril. it’ll only distract you now, and maybe depress you. Summer shifts your orbit, from classrooms and remote zooms, to lollygagging by beaches and snuggling in cozy hotel rooms. As intense and vital as last summer was - as they all are - it’s already blurring in memory. Soon only the memory of...

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blackbirds … innumerable … clouds and washes of them I grin to myself - symbolism … you taught me that and more … (and less) you taught me the difference between love and lust … and Love but you used a dull knife to cut, and those wounds fester … I still tend them, despite decades you were younger than I but far more experienced … wiser I could...

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fascinated by the things hovering in the punishing sky. both the wicked and winged, or the bare and featureless. pulled along in a conveyor belt parade, a silent march in the stratosphere. floating forward to the place called Limbo. jagged horns pop the clouds like balloons, withering skin grazes the twilight. the softest sky being cut into ribbons as if it was a present that was meant to...

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Phantoms roam the night with ease, Their haunting presence makes us freeze. With silent steps and ghostly grace, They glide and float through time and space. Their wispy forms and eerie glow, Send shivers down our spines, you know. But fear not, for there's a guide, A psychopomp to be your side. A jolly ghost with a wicked grin, He'll take you safely through...

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Whereas the evening filters through To bring the darkness seeping down. The daylight's leave now overdue High above a slumbering town. To bring the darkness seeping down As the north wind starts its blowing; High above the slumbering town Night time shadows start their showing. As the north wind starts its blowing Round and around deserted ways. Night time shadows start their showing There under, eerie...

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I watch the candle burning down to the final ash ...

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Sometimes the Dead by Michael R. Burch Sometimes we catch them out of the corners of our eyes— the pale dead. After they have fled the gourds of their bodies, like escaping fragrances they rise. Once they have become a cloud’s mist, sometimes like the rain they descend; they appear, sometimes silver like laughter, to gladden the hearts of men. Sometimes like...

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They’re sweaty and they’re soupy Outrageous, and moody They’re all together fruity The Phantoms family Their house is a soup bowl Where people come to condole They really are a hell hole The Phantoms family Stale Impale For sale So get your table ready With a soup kettle, you can carry They’re funny and they’re scary The Phantoms family. Please forgive me my friends...if anyone disagrees with these outlandish face...

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I pulled in late one night from off the pike, A manor rumored haunted, yet it seemed As clean and bright as any hotel deemed, So worthy of...

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Fields that echoed with the muskets' rattle; Blood of Yanks and Rebs spilt in dire battle; Now serene with murmurs of restless ghosts, Of men who died among the frenzied hosts! Are those the sighs of souls heard with each breeze, As winds stir dancing leaves of ancient trees? Do winter winds shrieking 'bout Round Top Hill, Recall screams of men, their...

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Phantoms of men and their imaginings dreams in their mind and its wanderings reality may never touch the high sky in which fancy desires and cravings fly Man surrounded by fruit laden gardens, forests, woods, waterfalls, and animals, food, comfort and even loved ones desires to venture into far away lands The one on the road lonely and hungry scorched by heat and...

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I, heart on sleeve ... proudly? I suppose, in a contrite way ... but it's beyond my breadth to control, so it is what it IS. Indeed, I am a "piner", pure,...

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